


Europa Into a BatJoke

by OTPAlchemist99



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Forced Orgasm, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, the Joker needs Jesus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14416785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPAlchemist99/pseuds/OTPAlchemist99
Summary: Bruce furrows his brows. The virus? What does that...Then it dawns on him. Bruce feels... better. Not by much but it is a noticeable difference. His skin doesn’t feel as clammy and his breathing isn’t as labored. Hell, even his body aches less. It’s slight but distinct.The Joker sees the confusion in Bruce’s eyes and beams. “See!? All through the power of looooooouuuuvvvveeee... or you know, an awesome blow job.”or...The Batman comic Europa where instead of drinking each others blood to cure the Colossus Virus, Bruce and the Joker have to fuck. ;D





	Europa Into a BatJoke

**Author's Note:**

> Cuz lets be honest, who didn't see the sexual tension between them when reading that comic!? 
> 
> also, fucking to cure the virus is just a believable as them drinking each others blood. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also Also, first time posting in the fandom! I hope I do the Joker justice. <3

Bruce collapses on the bed with a grunt, exhaustion weighting down his body. Despite the sweat collecting under his suit, he can’t convince himself to get up... even if it means lying in a bed with the Joker. 

He looks over at the clown with disdain, because it’s not like Bruce can just toss the Joker on the floor either. Cause if he feels like hell, the Joker looks like hell frozen over, thawed out and then put threw a meat grinder. Bruce doesn’t need to see the Joker’s body shaking with shivers instead of laughter to know how bad he is feeling. He can tell by looking at the Joker’s sleeping form, his usually painted grin turned down into a scowl and by his normal chaotic mane of green hair plaster with sweat to his forehead. The Joker looks deflated, like a balloon left in the sun. His lanky body collapsed in on itself. 

So no, Bruce can’t just roll him off the bed and pass out. Despite the hate that seems to constantly simmer between then when they are in proximity to each other, he can’t find it in himself to leave the manic clown to suffer. So with a groan Bruce gets up, body aching and protesting with the movement. Flipping back one side of the covers, Bruce taps on the Joker’s shoulder. “Joker... Joker. You need to wake up.”

Bruce tries a couple more time before resulting to shaking him. It, however, only results in grumbling and a weak swipe from the Joker. Bruce feels the corner of his mouth twitch. Normally he would find this situation bizarre, Twilight Zone worthy even. Batman trying to tuck a sick Joker into bed? Bruce isn’t sure if he should laugh or pull his hair out, though admittedly he is too tired for either. 

With a sigh, Bruce manages to roll the Joker over and pull the covers over his body. The activity is far from strenuous but Bruce feels himself panting from the small effort. Clutching the side of the bed, Bruce makes his way to the chair in the corner. It isn’t ideal but it is better than sharing the bed with a homicidal maniac. He has his limits.

Bruce also doesn’t trust that the Joker won’t try to kill him in his sleep. Joker might be just as sick as he is but he is also the same man who laughed the whole time Bane was laying into him. Pain and a high fever likely won’t deter the Joker from surprising Bruce with a wake up call in the form of strangulation. 

Bruce is about to collapse in the chair when an itch starts to form under his cowl, dirt and grease irritating the flesh under the mask. Eyeing the open bathroom doorway, Bruce looks between the shower and the sleeping body ten feet away. Maybe it’s the fever, or just the call of a cool shower on his aching body but Bruce doesn’t think about it long before taking the risk. He is after all depriving himself a bed, he can at least indulge in a shower.

Shutting the door behind him and locking it, Bruce precedes with the long process of removing his suit. A process that in normal situations is tedious but is now a fun house mirrors of buttons and clasps he struggles to find and undo. After an obscenely long time of fiddling with the thing, the last pieces of the suit fall away.

Staggering to the glass door, Bruce starts the shower and all but collapses under the spray, only managing to stay up by grabbing the wall. And man, is it worth it. Bruce relaxes into the hot jets of water and sighs, savoring the feeling of the water washing away the grime from the cities, his head clearing by the minute. 

Despite the effort, Bruce is glad he took the time. He needs to be thinking right now, not sleeping. Even though they defeated Bane, they still don’t have the cure to the Colossus virus. All they have done is solve the mystery of who infected them, left only with fragmented clues to try and figure out the cure. Barely a step closer to getting him and the Joker out of this mess. His time is better spent figuring out Bane’s puzzle, not sleeping. He can sleep when he is dead, which will be in 24 hours if he doesn’t piece together the clues. 

Bruce thinks about their trip across Europe. Bane chose the Joker for a reason, he even made it so that the pieces of the journey couldn’t have been gathered without the other person’s involvment. Berlin. Paris. Rome. Every step of the way relied on them working together.

And Rome, the final leg. It all felt so relevant, so easy. The answer hanging in the air just out of his reach. 

Bruce slams the palm of his hand on the wet tile. Damn it all. Damn the fever and his foggy mind… His brain matter feels like mush. Guess that’s the point. Bane means to give Batman all the information he needs to save himself with no way to do so in his condition.

Perhaps it’s the fever, or the past week spent with the Joker but all of a sudden, in the quiet confines of the shower, it all feels too much. Bruce’s eyes involuntary start to flutter shut and his forehead falls forward. He lets his head rest about the shower wall, the thick steam like blanket around him. Warm water and cool tile soothing him into a stupor.

Maybe just a little bit of sleep will help clear his head. The water had already helped some. If only he could just rest a little...

Crouching down, Bruce all but fall into a slumped sitting position at the bottom of the shower. It its only seconds before he loses consciousness. 

 

***

Bruce comes back to the world in waves. 

Cold air and the sounds of metal and glass...

Joints protesting as he is pulled across tile then carpet. 

“You could help you know, you over grown rodent.” An angry voice huffs next to his face.

There is the feeling of an arm around his torso lifting him up before he is jarred by soft cushions against his back. 

Fabric caresses his arms, the feeling of frictions rousing his limbs and mind briefly from their daze. 

“Batsy Dear... I’m as much in to somnophilia as the next morally vacant homicidal clown but I’m pretty sure you’ll need to be awake for some of this.”

Bruce’s ear prick as the soft melody of those words drifts over him. The soft caress over his body starts back up again, only the feeling of fabric is replaced by the tickle of something softer. It’s nice... soothing. Bruce hums softly.

A giggle breaks out somewhere to Bruce’s left that makes him frown. The laugh seems important. The concern is hard to hold on to though as the gently touches continue down Bruce’s torso. His pecks are grazed and warmth flows through his stomach. A soft flick goes across his nipple and Bruce groans as the sensation. 

“Hmmm, Batsy... you kinky flying mammal.” Snickers break out above him making Bruce’s brows furrow as a flare of irritation stirs through him, just as he feels hands... yes its hands, fondle the plains of his stomach. A finger circles his belly button, making electricity shooting down his spine. The touch trails lower as the finger trace from his navel, through the dusting of hair down to his-

Bruce’s eyes fly open in an instant, a slight gasp and barely contained shutter racks through his body. His eyes quickly take in the scene before him. The Joker, slightly flushed but looking surprisingly coherent compared to the last time Bruce saw him, is crouched over him with his hand trailing through his trimmed public hair. The bare finger of the Joker almost grazing his...

Shit, he is hard. 

It is the first thing he thinks, though the fact that he is cuffed to a bed is a close second. Third being he’s naked and therefore, unmasked. A wave of anxiety washes over him at the last realization but he pushes it away. He can’t do anything about it right now.

Fuck... he really couldn’t have been more of an idiot. Fall asleep naked in a shower is stupid enough, but doing that ten feet from a mass murderer with only a flimsy hotel door as a barrier? That is a new level of idiocy. Cuz’ the Joker could break out of Arkham. A bathroom door is as easy as ripping through tissue paper for him. 

Though, in Bruce’s own defense, he does have a fever so clearly he’s not a hundred percent in his right mind…

“Joker, uncuff me right now.” Bruce demands.

The Joker has the decency to look a bit put off, a slight pout drooping his crimson lips. “But Batsy, you were having so much fun.”

The leer the Joker shoots his nether regions is enough to make Bruce flush a deep pink. Thank god he can blame it on the fever. 

“Either you get these cuffs off me right now or I will kill you before the virus does.” Bruce growls out between clenched teeth. He’s only half bluffing. Bruce isn’t sure how he will get the cuffs off if the Joker doesn’t comply; his arms quite literally feel full of lead. But Bruce has broken his thumbs to get out of a situation like this before and being handcuff, naked by the Joker seems like just drastic enough of a situation to warrant doing it again.

At the threat the Joker’s eye go wide in mock shock. “You would really kill me? When all I want to do is save your life? Don’t you believe in the power of love Batsy!?” 

“There is far from love between us, the fever must be melting your brain.” Bruce looks Joker up and down. “Well, more than usual.” He mutters.

“I actually feel pretty dandy besides the whole topsy-turvy, merry-go-round of madness going on upstairs, though that’s par for the course. Besides, I was really talking more about the physical love than the Cupid and flowers kind, if you know want I mean.” The Joker says with a wink. 

Bruce summons the energy in that moment and pulls on the cuffs binding him to the headboard, metal digging into his wrists. “Stop fucking around Joker.”

“Oh we haven’t even begun to ‘fuck around’ yet Batsy- Baby.” The Joker says continuing his exploration downward, stroking Bruce’s inner thighs. Panic clutches his chest at the Joker’s suggestive touch, his body tensing. If only he could close the small gap keeping his legs apart. The Joker however, is one step ahead and has wedged a thigh between them. 

“Why are you doing this?” Bruce growls out. Though why he bothers asks he’s not sure. For all he knows the Joker never has a reason for doing anything or, for no other reason than for a good laugh. 

“You noodle must really be cooked B-Man.” The Joker says, running his lithe fingers through the pubes at the base of his cock. Bruce swallows but keeps his face impassive. “I told you. I’m doing this to save you… Well, us.”

Bruce just stares, brows furrowing. The seconds tick by until Joker sighs. “You really need more of explanation than that?”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t!?” Bruce says, exasperation making him raise his voice. It was hard enough to focus on making coherent sentences with the fever, let alone keep Joker from getting under his skin. It was only getting progressively more difficult with the Jokers hands close to his manhood.

The Joker sighs again, as if Bruce is the one who’s actions are insane. “Bane said we were each other’s key to survival, right?” Joker asks, trailing a finger up Bruce’s cock. 

Bruce holds back a shiver and nods. His mind wars with his body but he manages to make a sentence. “I figure there is something in our blood or DNA that we need to use to create an antidote.”

Even as Bruce is finishing the thought the Joker is shaking his head. “Batsy, Batsy, Batsy. If it was a homicidal clown it would have beaten you with a crowbar by now.” Joker says with an insane cackle. “I mean, what this whole stomach dropping, bloody spilling, scream inducing roller-coaster of a ride been about? Hmm?”

“Joker if you could just make your point and uncuff...”

“Not gonna happen hot stuff! And I mean literally too! Cuz man, are you toasty! He he!”

“Joker...” Bruce says with a growl.

“Yeah yeah, the point. I’m making it.” The Joker says with a wave of his hand. “The point our dear ‘roid-rage laced luchador was trying to make is that we need each other to survive. For either of us to exist we need the other.” The Joker flashes him a wide, devious grin. “Plus we make a great team.”

Bruce just stares at him, not bothering to even comment on the whole ‘great team’ comment. “I still don’t see your point for doing all of this.”

Joker sighs as if Bruce has missed something. “Fine, I guess its show and suck time. Hehe. Cuz really, I have a way better use for my mouth than talking.”

A lecherous wink is all he gets before the Joker swallows down Bruce’s half hard cock. A gasp and low moan escapes Bruce’s lips before he can clamp his lips shut. The swirls of the Joker’s tongue and gentle hum enough to bring Bruce back to full hardness. 

With an indecent pop, the Joker pulls of his spit slick head and shoots Bruce a grin. “How do you feel?"

Bruce almost chokes at the question. The Joker looks terrifying and dangerous with his painted grin and hand around his dick. It should scare Bruce silly. Instead, he can barely keep himself from whining and thrusting upward for more. He really just wishes he felt dirtier having the Joker suck him off. Shit, he didn’t even want to think about what that said about him.

“How do I feel? I feel violated that’s how I feel.” Bruce says, his voice as hard as steel.

The Joker rolls his eyes. “Not that. I mean, how’s your body feel.” Bruce opens his mouth, about to tell him to go fuck himself, because seriously? He was being given a blow job against his will and the Joker wanted to hear how good it felt? 

However,before he can tell him to fuck off in the twenty-four languages, the Joker cuts him off. “I’m talk about the virus. Geez, and they say I’m the oblivious one.”

Bruce furrows his brows. The virus? What does that...

Then it dawns on him. Bruce feels... better. Not by much but it is a noticeable difference. His skin doesn’t feel as clammy and his breathing isn’t as labored. Hell, even his body aches less. It’s slight but distinct.

The Joker sees the confusion in Bruce’s eyes and beams. “See!? All through the power of looooooouuuuvvvveeee... or you know, an awesome blow job.” The Joker punctuates his words with a long lick of the underside of Bruce’s cock, from base to tip. 

Bruce’s heart jumps in his throat and the feeling and view, biting his lip to keep in a groan. His mind feels better by a mile but he still feels light headed. Pleasure and weightlessness making it hard to grasp what the Joker is implying. 

“Are you saying the virus is cured by… sexual activity between us?”

“Ding ding ding! We have a winner. Please spread your legs and receive your prize!” Joker says, and Bruce sincerely doubts what he is talking about could be considered a prize.

“You are insane if you think-“ Bruce starts.

“Why Batsy, you are finally getting the picture.” The Joker says with a cackle. “And while I might be insane it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

Bruce’s stomach drops, because the look in Joker’s eyes is a well-known one. It the same look he gives Batman before he does most of his hair-brain schemes, a look so determined Bruce is equal parts impressed and terrified. Because a look like that on the Joker usually means only one thing, destruction.

“How do you even know for sure? It can just as easily be what I said.” Bruce says, pressing the issue. Hell he is ready to try drinking Joker’s blood to see if it would cure the virus, anything before jumping into bed with him. 

The Joker puts on an exaggerated shocked expression. “Don’t you trust me!?” He says before dissolving into giggles at his own joke. “Okay, okay. Good point. It could be, but then how do you explain you getting better from a blow job?”

Bruce racks his head. “Endorphins…?” Even when his says it, Bruce knows it’s weak. “Okay, maybe you are right. But it could also be something else. We should try other things first before-”

The Joker’s laugh cuts him off. “You are hilarious Batman, truly a stand-up act.” 

“I don’t see how this is funny.” Bruce says, pulling at the cuffs again. 

Joker licks his lips and grins. “It’s funny that you think I am doing this only as a cure.”

That’s the only warning Bruce gets before the Joker is lapping at the head of his cock and taking it down deep. The tip of his head touching the back of the Joker’s throat before he pulls off to start the whole process over again. A small sliver of Bruce wants to just relax and give in, and it wins out for a moment before he starts pulling on the cuffs again and trying to buck the Joker off. Joker of course is impossible to dislodge, with his whole weight pinning his legs, Bruce isn’t able to get enough leverage to even jar him.

If anything, the bucking only pushes his dick farther into the Joker’s mouth, gagging the clown slightly. A moan escapes Joker at the action making vibrations tingle down his cock. Bruce feels him breathe come in small pants at the feeling, his cock twitching for more. Bruce’s bites his lips to keep his groan in and mentally curses himself for probably the hundredth time since this journey across Europe had started.

Of course the Joker would jump at this chance. Bruce had hoped for the longest time that his sexual passings were his idea of a joke. A way to get a rise out of his enemy in a way besides fists and feet. It of course wasn’t that easy for Batman though. He knew of from the first time he held the Joker down and slammed his fists into his face. Knew from the moment blood gushed from the Joker’s nose and his hard on pushed against his Kevlar. It was never that simple for Batman. Made even less so by his own staining erection in his cup. He had been a fool. 

And still is one. Batman would never be as stupid as to let his basic needs interfere with his safety and identity. Bruce had though, in letting his judgement clouded by an illness and by dropping his guard around an enemy. The Joker might be right, his noodle really is cooked. 

The worst part is that he feels progressively better as Joker continues to suck and lick his cock. The swirl and humming from the scarred mouth making pleasure coil around his spine. It pains Bruce but, as his fever dissipates, he has to admit what the Joker said made sense. 

Bane wouldn’t give Batman an easy out through science. No, he would want to make his claim that Batman needs the Joker poignant. It would take something harder than solving a simple Scooby-doo case together to cure them.

Bane is forcing Bruce to either die with his enemy or sleep with him. And in a way it’s almost poetic that a relationship so passionate with hate and violence can only be kept alive by the physical embodiment of intimacy. 

But Bruce will be damned if he makes it easy on either Bane or the Joker. Just because it is the cure doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it. So Bruce tries to stifle his moans, clenching his jaw in an attempt to keep the pleasure in. Hell, Batman has been tortured and not made a peep except for the occasional grunts. He’s determined to do the same with the Joker. 

Batman resigns himself to fucking the Joker.

That is, until he feels the brush of a finger over his perineum that’s only trailing lower… 

Bruce gasps, his lips jaw falling open as he cock twitches in the clown’s mouth. “Joker, what do you think you are doing?”

Joker smiles around Bruce’s cock, green eyes glittering before he pulls off, lips glistening. “Now Batsy, were you not educated in Sex Ed at Bat-school? No ‘Bats and Butt Sex’ talk? It’s a shame. No worries though. Professor J will teacha. Might even give you extra credit if you are a good boy.”

Bruce bucks his hips again but it doesn’t stop Joker’s trajectory. “Joker, stop.”         

“And why would I do that, Bats?” Joker says, smile gone carnivorous. “I am in clown heaven over here! Could go for some funnel cake and a dunk tank though if you’d be interested. Can think of some real kinky stuff with-”

“No Joker.” Bruce says, interrupting the clown’s ramblings. He really didn’t want to know what he wanted to use the dunk tank for. “You said this is to cure us of the colossus virus, right?”

 Joker cocks his head and blinks. “Sure, sure. For the most part.”

“Then why...” Bruce starts but feels his mouth go dry. He’s not sure how to finish the question. Either out of embarrassment or preservation of dignity, he’s not a hundred percent sure. Cause Bruce can concede that the sexual activities did seem to be the cure. He wasn’t arrogant enough to not admit the Joker is brilliant and right sometimes. But it was a whole other thing to ask question the trajectory of the Joker’s finger.

“You know you are going to need to finish that sentence, Batsy. I am getting pretty impatient down here...” The Joker says, punctuating the words with the circle of his finger around his entrance. Bruce jolts and moves upward in the bed. 

“Why am I the bottom!?” Bruce suddenly bursts out, stress and irritation makes his words sharp. Bruce holds onto the anger though, it’s better than he rapid heartbeat and fluttering stomach.

Joker blinks wide eyed down at him for a couple minutes before bursting into a fit of laughter. The force of it makes Joker fall forward on one hand while the other clutches his stomach. 

Bruce feels a nerve in his jaw twitch as the Joker continues to hoot and holler in laughter. He’s pretty sure he might even be crying with mirth. Bruce feels him annoyance mounting by the minute but reins it in. At least the laughter did wonders to stop the progression of the Joker’s finger.

It however also brings back some of the virus. Bruce can already feel some of the ache that had disappeared start to creep back under his skin. 

“Now Bats, you don’t need to worry about your masculinity here.” Joker says once he can breathe enough to form a sentence. “Gender norms have no place in the lives of a clown and bat anyways. But answer me this B-man, have you ever done the old stroke and poke with another fella before, hmmm?”

Bruce feels heat creep into his cheeks, his lips setting on a line and just glares. The Joker seriously can’t be asking this, so refuses to answer. The last think Bruce is going to do is have a talk of sexual exploits with his archenemy. No matter how vanilla they may be.

“I’ll take your silence as a no.” The Joker says with a chuckle, stoking a hand down one of Bruce pecs. “Now you see I, on the other hand, have had my cock in men, women, clowns, bearded women, wolf-men, you name it!”

“I really do not want to know this…” Bruce says with a glare.

“I know, I know. You are a jealous bat. But I promise you, they meant nothing to me. I only have eyes for you sugar lips.” Joker flashes a grin before his eye lock on to said body part.

Bruce tries to turn his head as he sees the Joker lean down only to have the hand that was once exploring his chest come up to his face. With a firm grip on his jaw, the Joker keeps his head straight as he licks and nibbles on his lips, while Bruce squeeze his eyes shut. He wishes this was the first time he had the Jokers lips on him. Sadly it isn’t, and the smell of smoke and chemicals that is unique to the Joker is way too familiar for Bruce’s liking.

Joker licks and the seam of his lips trying to get entrance but Bruce holds firm. Even when the Joker’s holds his jaw in a grip that can only leave bruises, Bruce keeps him from deepening the kiss. 

He thinks the Joker is about to give up when he shift his body weight and puts some space between them. He is completely wrong however when the hand that is on his jaw just slides lower between their bodies. The ticklish brush of finger tips over his chest barely has a chance to register before a sharp pain shoots through him. Bruce gasps at the shock of have his nipple pinched giving the Joker all the space he needs to slip this clever tongue past teeth.  

The sharp pinch turns into soothing circles as the Joker licks into Bruce’s mouth. He groans as the Joker starts to rut against him. The friction of the Joker’s dress pants against his cock reigniting the flame in his groin. 

Bruce feels weightless as the Joker caresses his nipple and mouth, exploring his mouth with his tongue while his hands tease and caress. He feels elemental in this moment, weightless and flushed with his heart beating heavy in his chest. The Joker’s body above him feels like the only thing keeping Bruce grounded, tethered.

But his control is hanging by a thread.

Never a passive man, Bruce’s defiance and decision to just lay there starts to lose to the over whelming sensation coursing through him. So when the Joker strokes his hand through Bruce’s hair and tugs, the slight pain mixing with the pleasure pulsing in his cock cuts the last tether holding him back.

With a tentative flick, Bruce touches the Joker’s tongue with his. The Joker stiffens at first before relaxing into the kiss with an appreciative giggly-moan. And then it’s like the kisses before were merely a show. If Bruce thought Joker was passionately kissing him before, it increases ten folds at that small response from him. 

The Joker kisses like he fights, tactless but fierce and energy that seems never ending. It’s like getting hit by a wave; even if you survive the initial hit and are still standing, the second and third wave come and you are doomed to either a never ending cycle or to be washed up in the raw force of it. 

By the time the Joker pulls away, Bruce feels like he’s been eroded away. Any resolve he had sucked from his head by the Joker’s lips. 

“Now aren’t you a pretty sight. Knew you’d come around once you got that stick out of your ass.” The Joker says with a chuckle as he stokes his fingertips over Bruce’s flushed lips. “Though I’m about to put something much bigger up there is a second.”

That snaps Bruce back to himself but before he can respond the Joker crams his index and middle finger between his parted lips. Long bony finger tasting salty and metallic explore his tongue and teeth.

“Get them nice and wet Batsy. That’s all the lubrication they are going to get.” The Joker says, eyes flashing dark and manic. 

 Bruce growls around the digits and tries to spit them out, tongue pushing against them as he turns his head. 

“Ah, Ah, Ah...” the Joker says with a giggle, using his other hand to hold Bruce’s jaw in place. “If you are a naughty boy Daddy J will make you do the same to his cock. Only good boys get lube... and believe me Batsy...” The Joker leans in close, malicious grin wide on his pale face. “You are going to want the lube.”

Bruce feels a shutter go through him as the Joker’s words. Soon be begins to thrusts his fingers roughly between his lips, teeth scraping knuckles on each entry and exit. Apprehension freeze’s Bruce before anger flashes through it as quick as a knife. Fuck Joker and his compliance. If he thinks he will get obedience through the threat of pain he doesn’t know Batman like he thinks.

Rage coursing through his veins, Bruce bites down on the finger between his teeth. Enamel is stopped by bone but with not nearly enough force to break skin or do the damage he wants. Trying again, he opens his mouth wider to chomp down.

The Joker is faster though and pulls away with a giggle. “Oh Bats, my feisty little flying rodent, you warm my small, cold clown heart.”

“If you think for a second I will be compliant in any of this you are delusional.” Bruce says, eyes narrowing. 

“You act as through I want your complacency.” The Joker says with a cotton candy sweet smile. “No darling. I want the opposite.”

Like lightening the Joker snaps out and grabs his jaw in an iron grip. The dark gleam returns to his eye as he sneers down at Bruce. “I want hate filled eyes and growled insults. I want you to curse my name. Hell, curse my existence,… all the while knowing you are the only thing keeping me here.” 

The Joker shuffled back on his haunches to look at Bruce’s tied up form. His hands trailing down his sides till they reach their desired goal. He roughly pulls Bruce’s ass cheeks apart as a grin splits his face, white teeth and lascivious green eyes flashing with intent. 

“All the while I fuck you better than you’re ever had, Doll.” 

The breath in Bruce seems to be punched from him lungs as he feels slick fingers circle his asshole. Any sharp reply getting caught in his throat, lodged there by a sharp intake as the Joker slides one finger slowly into him. 

Bruce tries to wiggle away at the first feel of intrusion, pulling harder on the cuffs until his wrists feel raw. The Joker, however, just grabs his hip to keep him close as he slowly starts to pump his finger in and out. The spit does nothing to keep the drag from burning slightly but he has had way worse. Bruce just grinds his teeth and glares up at Joker. Thankfully his cock had flagged and thankfully, the Joker is too ecstatic to notice.

“I know I’m your first lover and all Batsy, but I promise I’ll be gentle when I pop your cherry. This might not be prom but this will be a night to remember, dontcha think?” The Joker says with a wink.

“Just get it over with.” Bruce says, his voice icy. The sooner the Joker fucks him the better. The only thing he can do is deprive Joker the interaction he wants. Bruce vows he won’t make a sound the whole time. Short of torture, he won’t make a peep.

Just as the thought crosses his mind the Joker seems to take notice of his soften cock. He stares down at it with a frown. “Now that won’t do.”

Before he can wonder what the Joker means, he is lower his mouth onto Bruce’s cock. Bruce clenches his jaw at the wet warm envelops him, trying to count his breaths to keep calm. 

Fuck does it feel good though. Bruce didn’t think the Joker was kidding about his sexual exploits but the talent in his tongue really goes ways to prove it. Bruce tries to think of anything to stop the blood from rushing down to his groin. It’s a losing battle though and Bruce only gets to the 60th decimal of pi before he is fully erect again. 

“That’s better.” The Joker says with a smile as he reaches around Bruce for the bedside table. “Now I might have been bluffing about the whole no lube thing. I might be a sadistic but... wait what was my point? He he He he.”

The Joker pulls something out of the drawer and into Bruce’s line of sight. A bottle of lube. Joker pops the cap and drizzles some of it down Bruce’s taint, the cool tacky feeling making him tense. The Joker tuts.

“Now none of that. Didn’t I say Daddy J would take care of you?”

“First off, why would I trust you? And second, didn’t you also say you wanted me to curse your name and hate it?” Bruce corrects, hoping to delay the madman for a bit. He tries to discretely pull his hands from the hand cuffs, but only succeeding in peeling off some skin. 

“Curse my name and hate it doesn’t mean out of displeasure Batsy...” The Joker replies, completely ignoring the first question. 

Bruce’s brows furrow at that, confusion clear on his face making the Joker chuckle. “No worries, darling. I’ll show you what I mean.”

Lowering his head again the Joker takes back up his administrations, flicking his tongue over the slit before swirling the head and taking his length down to the base. Bruce’s eyes roll back into his head after a few strokes and he swallows back the noises creeping up his throat. 

Bruce wants to pull away but feels himself unable to give a damn. At least, until he feels the finger that had stalled inside his pull out all the way. A circling motion spreads the lube around his asshole before two fingers slowly push into the first knuckle. 

“Ah!” Bruce’s eyes opens at the feel of it, the slight burn kicking up a notch as the Joker slowly pumps shallow thrusts into him. 

“There’s that hate filled voice I love. Thought you might have gone mute on me for a second Batsy!  Or became a mime and, let me tell your right now, I draw the line at fucking a mime.” The Joker pulls a face, red spit-slick lips turned down. “That would just be sick.”

Bruce snaps his jaw shut with a click and takes a deep breathe through his nose. He can do this. He’s trained for years with the League of Shadow and has gone through rigorous mental training. There isn’t anything Joker can throw anything at Bruce that he can’t handle. At least he thinks there isn’t.

Joker licks the tip of Bruce’s cock with a smile before plunging back down. The thrust of his fingers slowly get deeper as the Joker blows Bruce, the tug of the fingers on his asshole smoother with the lube. It doesn’t however, get rid of the burn and foreign feeling.

Keeping his breathing deep and slowly, Bruce tries to bring himself into a meditative state. He gets close a couple times but is always pulled back from it by a pleasurable flick of the Jokers tongue. And if Bruce is being honest, while the fever and aches from the Colossus virus is cut in half, he still feels mentally exhausted from the past week. It makes it difficult for Bruce to fully relax or detach himself from what the Joker is doing. 

Bruce is hanging on the precipice of deep meditation when he feels a shot of pleasure race up his spine. The sensation goes through his body again causing Bruce’s eyes to fly open and his hips to buck up. 

The Joker chokes slightly and pulls off with a chuckle. “Wooh there tiger. You act as though no one has ever touched your love button before.”

To punctuate his words the Joker curls the fingers inside Bruce. Pleasure ignites a fire in his abdomen making his cock stain and twitch. Bruce tries to hold onto his anger as his heartbeat races and sweat break out on his forehead. 

“Stop. Doing that.” Bruce says, voice dark but breathy. 

“Make me.” The Joker says with a giggle as he continues to thrust his finger into Bruce’s prostate. Bruce bites his lip, physically trying to hold back any sound. Fuck the Joker. Fuck his sick twisted ways and the fact the Batman is always getting dragged through the mud with him. 

Life hadn’t been easy in Gotham before the Joker, Batman still had to deal with crazies and robberies but it was at least simple. Stop the crime and right the wrong when he could. Now he has a fanatic following of loons gunning for him or Gotham every other week with the Joker the leader of the fan club. 

The Joker takes Bruce’s cock back in his mouth as he massages his prostate, humming around his cock as he fingerfucks him. The feeling a coiled pleasure building around his spine makes his stomach quake. Little huffs of air escape his lips as he gasps for air. 

Bruce doesn’t think he will able to take more when the Joker pulls his fingers out abruptly. The Joker keeps working his cock in small, pleasant circles around his tip though while he shuffles a little. Bruce tries to see what he’s doing when he feels it. 

Three fingers slick with lube come up to his asshole. Fuck is he not ready for that.

“Joker, pl-“ Bruce starts but grits his teeth. There’s no way in hell he he is going to beg. He takes a deep breath and swallows the panic rising down. “Joker Stop. Don’t-”

Those are the only words Bruce gets out before those three fingers start pushing in, stretching the tight ring of muscle. Bruce groans at the feeling, the stretch too much, too soon. But unlike the first two, the Joker doesn’t seem as patient to get Bruce use to the intrusion. Instead he works the three fingers in fast and the burn is intense. Bruce feel impossibly stretched as the width that starts out barely larger than the two digits slowly widening as the Joker pushes in till the three digits are fully sheathed. 

The penetration ends with a jolt as the Joker grazes Bruce’s prostate before pulling out to start again. It’s a brutal pace. The breech of his asshole making his mouth fall slack as he gasps for breaths between barely contained groans. Heat flushes his body as his climax builds. The slight pain coiling it all tighter and tighter as his body climbs towards the peek. 

The Joker spreads his finger on the next exit taking Bruce’s breath away. The twinge of pain and electricity through his body is like a punch to his solar-plex. Bruce knows he’s about to finish… just one more thrust… But suddenly, the swirl of pleasure and pain stops. 

Bruce feels his head spin like a holiday top as he tries to calm his breathing. Absently he realizes he’s making small little moans and closes his treacherous mouth. Bruce can feel his whole body pulse in time with his heart beats, all the way from his slowly numbing hands to his throbbing dick. Mildly he wonders if it wouldn’t have been better to just let the Colossus virus finish him off.

Bruce mentally scolds himself, because it’s a foolish thought. He knows he would never let Joker or himself die if he had the means to save them. He has been dragged through the mud by the Joker before, he could survive this. He just isn’t so sure he will be the same vigilante on the other side…

Confused at the abrupt halt, Bruce turns his glazed to Joker and his mouth goes dry.

Eyes blown wide with lust and flashing with something other than his usual manic energy is jarring enough, but the really kick to Bruce’s stomach is the look of reverence on Joker’s face. All murderous glee and psychotic aura is gone in the moment. And the Joker looks more like a man than Bruce has ever seen him. Not a cartoon-ish villain with an outlandish suit and a whimsical speech pattern, no… he’s flesh and blood and breathe… Stripped of everything that makes him easy to swallow… easy to understand.

It’s in that moment Bruce knows he won’t be the only one that comes out changed after this night.

But like a mirage, the vision of the Joker that Bruce glimpses is gone in a blink. Painted lips turn Joker’s mouth up into a devious grin as he grabs Bruce’s cock again.

“Ready for the grand finally, Batsy!? It’s sure to be a ‘banging’ good time!” Joker says with a giggle. He takes the hand that isn’t stroking Bruce loosely and snaps open the front of his purple pin stripped pants.

All breath seems to punch out of Bruce’s lungs as the Joker pulls down his zipper. His chest constricting like a vice while his heart tries to run away from him. Bruce is wholly unprepared and unsure how to react to the strip tease in front of him. Though he’s pretty sure his cock isn’t supposed to twitch with interest.

Batman is not supposed to be prepared for something like this.

The ‘Inevitability Train’ is coming though, and all Bruce can do is brace for impact. So with a shimmy of his lithe hips, Joker pulls down his dress pants enough to pull his straining cock from its fabric confines. And just like the man’s wiry frame and large limps, Joker’s cock is only slightly thicker than average but long enough to be intimidating.

The large palm of his easily takes his cock in hand and gives the rigid, pale flesh a stroke and lets out a throaty groan. A bead of precum glistens at the tip of Joker’s cock and is quickly worked down his hard shaft. Bruce licks his lips, his mouth suddenly going dry for reasons he rather not think about at the moment, or at least chalk up to anxiety.

“Oh, Batsy. Don’t do that unless you are willing to follow through with that tease…” Joker says voice gruff and slightly strained. Lube is generously poured on his dick and Joker messily slides the liquid from tip to root, the excess falling haphazardly on the sheet below.

In a last ditch effort, Bruce grasps onto those words like a life line. “I’ll do it.” Bruce spits out before common sense catches up to him.

The Joker freezes at those words, the hand working his cock stopping mid-stroke.

If the Joker’s mind was a machine, Bruce was almost sure he would be able to hear the cogs moving in overdrive and see smoke coming out of his ears. Instead the madman goes completely still. Normally the inanimate state and speechlessness of a man who seems to never stop talking or moving would make Bruce chuckle or at least crack a smile. At the moment though, he can only hold his breath and hope Joker takes the bait. Sucking Joker off would be a victory over being fucked by him, though just barely. At least in one scenario he would have some control over the situation.

Bruce gets his response in the form of a chuckle and as Joker’s continues spreading the lube over his dick. “Tempting Brucey-Baby, very tempting. But I won’t allow you to side track me.”

Bruce feels his stomach flip at his name on the Joker’s lips. Half of him hoped Joker wouldn’t know who Bruce Wayne. Though realistically, despite his general disinterest in Gotham’s aristocrats, the Joker would have to live under a rock to not know. Bruce’s mind whirls as he mentally tries to do damage control, so much so that the actions of Joker go unnoticed until he feels his legs being holstered up and a discarded pillow is slipped under his hips.

Bruce’s breathe hitches before instinct kicks in. Using the angle, Bruce locks his feet together as best he can and squeezes he calves together. It’s not ideal, his thighs would be stronger and harder to break but his calves should still be strong enough to cut off blood flow around the Joker’s neck. Then, once the Joker is passed out, Bruce can work on getting out of the cuffs.

It of course, doesn’t work that way.

Bruce has barely locked his feet together when Joker grabs his legs and digs his thumb into the muscle. He barely has time to admire the use of a well places pressure point before his legs are unlocked and spread open. Face not even flushed the Joker busts out laughing.

“Now that’s the spirit! Always knew you would be a feisty one in bed.” Joker says with a wide, split grin. He lines himself up just as Bruce starts to wiggle up the bed, stomach in his throat.

“Breath Batsy…” Joker says in a soothing coo but it’s far from reassuring coming from him. Especially as Bruce feels the blunt head of his cock brush his entrance. Logic tells him to relax but he is far from it as Joker starts to push through the ring of his asshole.

Bruce’s brain shuts off at the burning pain, his body freezing as the Joker slowly works his length further in. The feeling consuming and overwhelming. Pain and fullness push all thought from his mind as he’s split open in the Joker’s cock.

It feels like an eternity before the Joker stills and Bruce prays silently that he is fully sheathed. It’s immediately dashed though, as the Joker pulls out slightly with a groan. “Half way there… that’s it…”

Something in Bruce breaks at those words. “Joker, I can’t. Stop… stop… I-”

Joker groans. “That’s it Batsy, beg… God, that’s hot…”

The Joker is almost all the way out, his head at the tight ring of muscle before he starts to push back in again. His jaw goes slack as he pushes more of his cock into Bruce’s tight ass and his normally vivid green eyes now dilated and dark like a black hole. The sight makes something in Bruce stir even as his anger radiates off him at the Joker’s words. The anger steadies him.

“Fuck you, Joker. I am not begging. I just can’t-” Bruce is cut off by his own gasp as the Joker hits his prostate. All words getting lodged in his throat and swallowed with his groans. Fuck, if that didn’t make his flagging dick twitch.

“Sure you aren’t Doll.” Joker says with a grin, his hips dragging his cock back slightly before pushing back in again, hitting its mark again. Bruce isn’t able keep the noise in this time and a strangled groan escaped between clenched teeth.

Impossibly, Bruce feels more cock being worked into him. The length of the Joker looked impressive before but it pales in comparison to the feeling of it inside of him. And with ever inch that the Joker pulls out, he feels him push another two in. The burning fullness searing him from his stretched hole to the tip of his hardening cock.

He feels overwhelmed by the sensation and closes his eyes to it, his brow furrowed. Bruce is tempted to tell Joker again to stop, or slow down or something… anything. To stop the steady thrusts and burning pain/pleasure each stroke brings. Bruce bites his lip though and tries to breath past the small grunts escaping him. He doesn’t trust himself to not beg like the Joker said.

It seems like hours but eventually Bruce feels the last of Joker’s cock slide into him followed by the gentle brush of his pubic hair and balls. A loud groan sounds in the room and it takes Bruce a minute to realize it coming from him. He snaps his jaw shut and takes a deep inhale through his nose to calm himself. It is short lived though as the Joker grabs his cock and circles the top of the head with the palm of his hand.

Bruce’s eyes fly open as the zing of pleasure races up his spine, a gasp falling from his lips before he can eve register it. His ass clenches around the cock inside him while his body and mind war with the unwanted pleasure it brings. He feels full and trapped by pleasure and humiliation.

The Joker repeats the motion, teasing Bruce’s cock with a small knowing smile and reflexively Bruce thrusts into the sensation with a moan.

“You are quiet the site, Batsy. Stuffed full of my cock with your pretty pink lips open in ecstasy…” The Joker pulls out and thrusts back in with a long, deep groan. “And fuck,… your tight ass…”

Bruce finds himself speechless at the sensual dirty talk pour from the Joker, surprised by the pornographic display. He’d never pictured the Joker talking dirty before but it makes sense in a way. It was fitting that a man that never stopped talking wouldn’t do so in bed either. What was confusing though was how Bruce reacted to it. With his heart beating out of his chest and his cock twitching at the rough timbre of the Joker’s voice. Bruce liked it more than he would ever willingly admit.

Despite the haughty word though, the Joker’s thrust were measured. The snapping of his hips steady as if he thought he might break Bruce. Even if it was far from the case, every thrust of Joker’s hips still burned as he fucked Bruce methodically with shallow thrusts. It was medical, controlled and thorough in how every thrust of his cock brushed against in prostate in a gentle caress that to teased and did little else. Even the stroking of his cock was an infuriating tease, more fondling of his balls than stimulating his length.

It was quiet, rolling thunder storm that was about to break.

Bruce growls in frustration as a grin spreads wide on the Joker’s face. “Something wrong, Batsy?” The Joker asks just as a harder thrust nails his prostate before the more gentle brushes start back up again and realization dawns on Bruce. He growls again.

Of course Joker is doing this on purpose, fucking him in a teasing way so the only relief he will be able to get is if he asks the Joker to fuck him harder. Because as much as Bruce is sure the Joker could get off by this slow, steady fuck (even if it took a while) he sure the hell won’t. And Bruce is highly doubts the Joker will stop the teasing until he does.

Joker must see the realization in his eyes because he gives a little chuckle and slows down even more. Gently pulling out and thrusting back in in a languid pace. It’s even more torturous than the steady rhythm because instead of the gentle brushes to his prostate like before, he hits it dead on with every thrust. The pace not nearly fast enough though to do much more than make Bruce gasp and rock his hips to meet each thrust.

“Joker…” Bruce finally moans out, wrapping his legs around the Joker’s him to hold him closer. He opens his mouth to ask but can’t get the words out, his pupil blow eyes hooded and mind foggy.

The Joker groans at the sight. “You know you really don’t fight fair, Batsy…”

That’s all the Joker says before unhooking Bruce’s legs from around him, spreading them wide and snapping his hips forward in a harsh thrust. Bruce moans out a breathy ‘yes’ at the feeling, the pain sparking in his spine only to fizzle into delicious pleasure. It’s a steady crescendo as the Joker fucks Bruce for real now, their mingled moans and slapping of skin only increasing the tempo. Bruce feels him cock bounce between their bodies, precum pooling on him abdomen.

It’s better than he could have imagined and hates himself with every moan that escapes his lips and thrust that he meets. Because for some odd reason he figured Joker would take him from behind, mount him like a dog and debase him like an animal. Facing him, Bruce realizes, is so much worse. It’s impossible to tune out the moment and detach himself when hears those dark groans and smells that unique smell of smoke and dead flowers that is all Joker.

Even worse is how much he can’t look away.

The furrow of the Joker’s brow and lust blown eyes only spurs Bruce on, making the tight band of pleasure building inside him draw tighter. The sight of pure pleasure on his face makes Bruce want to rake his fingers through his hair and pull, make the Joker cry out in pain. Bite his lip till both their mouths are red with blood.

The thought makes him groan. The Joker does always say he looks good in red…

And just like that the band of pleasure breaks, Bruce gasps in a sharp inhale as his world shatters and pleasure explodes around him. Joker fucks him through the waves of it, hitting his prostate in a brutalizing milking that edges on too much. Absently he realizes that he came untouched.

Seconds later hears a long groan as the Joker’s hips jerk erratically. Curious, Bruce cracks his eyes open to watch the Joker come undone.  His hips pump him roughly twice before he buries himself as far as he can into Bruce’s ass. The jab of his cock pushes on Bruce’s abused prostate and with a gasp Bruce feels his muscles clench around the Joker’s pulsing cock as he cums again. Pleasure vibrating through him as he feels himself scatter into dust.

Having a dry orgasm he finds is like getting a concussion, the world doesn’t fully black out but Bruce feels detached and floaty before he snap back into his body. Bruce falls limp just as the Joker pulls out collapses on top of him. The weight making the mess on Bruce’s stomach all the more obvious, though not completely uncomfortable.

Bruce has barely caught his breath when Joker pops up and off the bed, a wide grin on his face. “See!? What did I tell you?”

Bruce blinks a couple times, his head still cloudy from his orgasm before he finally registers what Joker said. He shakes his head and lets out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah you were right. Unfortunately, Bane’s cure for the Colossus Virus was fornication. I feel perfectly fine, all things considered.”

“No no no… How was it?” Joker asks, bouncing slightly on his feet. “Best orgasm, right?”

Bruce stares at him blankly. “You really are insane…”

Joker pouts. “Now that’s rude. Do you say that to all your partners after you make love to them?”

“We did make love, Joker. Stop call in that.”

“Fine. Make woopie. Whatever you want to call it.” Joker says, waving his hand and straighten his clothes. Bruce just realizes the Joker never even fully stripped to fuck him. It makes him feel all the more naked with the feeling of cum leaking out of him.

“Joker, uncuff me right now.” Bruce growls out, clenching his hands into fists

“But then how will we get any of our pillow talk done?” Joker says with mock concern. “Cuz I know as soon as I uncuff you, you’re going to go all a fisticuffs on me aren’t you?”

The Joker laughs and sits on the edge of the bed. “Poor way of thanking the man that fucked away your illness.”

Bruce scowls but slowly relaxes his fist. He might hate what the Joker did to him but he can’t fault him completely. He doubt he would have listened to reason before they both succumbed to the virus. As much as Bruce hated to admit it, the Joker saved his life.

“Thank you.” Bruce manages to get out, shocking the Joker if the fact that his jaw pops open is any indication. Bruce clears his throat and plows ahead before the Joker can respond. “So I have to know… what do you plan to do now that you know?”

The Joker tilts his head to the side. “Know what?”

“My identity.” Bruce says, taking a deep breath. “Now that you know I am Bruce Wayne.”

“Bruce who?” Joker asks, arching an eyebrow. “I must have fucked you a little too hard, Batsy cuz’ you are not making any sense.”

Bruce’s eyebrows pull together as he looks at the confused expression on the Joker’s face. He has to know who Bruce is. He has seen his face and said his name. Joker has him trapped, Batman’s identity known and able to be sold to the highest bidder or used to ruin his livelihood. So why is he…?

“Any whooo….” Joker says, interrupting Bruce’s thoughts before twirling up with a flourish and walking across the room. He grabs something from the coffee table before coming back over. The Joker uncaps a black permanent mark and starts to write on a piece of paper. “My number is case you want a repeat.” The Joker explains before pressing the piece of paper and something metal into the palm of his hand. Bruce goes to see what it is only to get pulled into a passionate kiss, finger lacing through his thick, mussed up black hair. By the time the Joker pulls away, Bruce is panting. Opening his eyes, he sees Joker half out of the window and with a wiggle of his finger and a sing-song declaration of ‘toodles’, he disappears out of it.

Looking up, Bruce sees a small key nestled amongst a scrap of paper in the palm of his hand. After unlocking the cuffs, he rubs his wrist and stares out the window. Confusion and apprehension swirl around in his head, unsure what the Joker is playing at with his ignorance. With a shrug, he gets off the bed to clean himself up. He’s unlikely to figure out what the Joker is going to do with the knowledge of his identity, all he can do it go back to Gotham and be prepared for it.

Prepare for the whole thing to explode in his face.

 

 

 

 

Oddly, it never does…

 

And Bruce never throws out the number.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I think I read this a thousand times but eventually I just had to post it. I hope there isn't a million errors. 
> 
> Not beta read. 
> 
> Feel free to point out any typos.


End file.
